A Quote by Sylvester Stallone

Some people maybe try to justify their laziness. You take out what you put in and the more I go to church and the more I turn myself over to the process of believing in Jesus, and to listening to his word and have him guide my hand I feel the pressure's off me.
The more I go to church and the more I turn myself over to the process of believing in Jesus and listening to His Word and having Him guide my hand, I feel as though the pressure is off me now.
I don't feel pressure because what everyone expects of me is what I expect of myself anyway. Everyone expects me to win this fight, I expect myself to win this fight. It's not any more pressure than what I put on myself. I don't suffer nerves, I don't feel pressure, I just go out and do what I need to do.
To sum it all up, then, what is needed for happy and effectual service is simply to put your work into the Lord's hands, and leave it there. Do not take it to Him in prayer, saying, “Lord, guide me, Lord, give me wisdom, Lord, arrange for me,” and then arise from your knees and take the burden all back, and try to guide and arrange for yourself. Leave it with the Lord; and remember that what you trust to Him you must not worry over nor feel anxious about. Trust and worry cannot go together.
The only pressure I ever feel is the pressure I put on myself... I'm over it. Now I go out there and I enjoy what I do.
These books have not made George nobler or better or more truly wise. It is just that he likes listening to their voices, the one or the other, acording to his mood. He misuses them quite ruthlessly - despite the respectful way he has to talk about them in public - to put him to bed, to take his mind off the hands of the clock, to relax the nagging of his pyloric spasm, to gossip him out of his melancholy, to trigger the conditioned reflexes of his colon.
When he first put his arms around me, it was tentative, like maybe he expected I'd pull away. When I didn't, he moved in closer, his hands smoothing over my shoulders, and in my mind I saw myself retreating a million times when people tried to do this same thing: my sister or my mother, pulling back and into myself, tucking everything out of sight, where only I knew where to find it. This time, though, I gave in. I let Wes pull me against him, pressing my head against his chest, where I could feel his heart beating, steady and true.
I always worked pretty steadily. But maybe out of some kind of fear, I put the brakes on letting myself be as successful as I'd like to be. More and more, I've taken the brakes off and let whatever happens happen.
I have seen him set fire to his wigwam and smooth over the graves of his fathers... clap his hand in silence over his mouth, and take the last look over his fair hunting ground, and turn his face in sadness to the setting sun.
Yes. The opposite of love is not hate. It is indifference. That is why few people find God. They go to church and talk about him and that sort of thing. They may even go out and evangelize and try to win converts. But in their hearts, if they are honest with themselves, they are indifferent to him because they cannot see him. God is too abstract for people. God is a word without meaning. If Jesus came back today, nothing he said would make any sense to those who wait for him. They would be the first ones to kill him again.
There is always a bit of pressure to do a good album - to do good work, period. I really put a lot of pressure on myself, more so than other people. But I try not to let that overwhelm me to the point where I can't even do good work. I just put it aside and do the best that I know that I can.
Any more questions?" I ask, poking him gently in the ribs. "Do you still love me any?" Eliot asks, putting his hand over mine. "A little." "A little?" he asks, pulling away from me. "A lot." "How much?" he asks. "More than chocolate chip cookies." "Mmm" he says, kissing my shoulder. "More than walking on the beach." Eliot kisses me on the neck. "More than . . ." I pause, turning to look at him. "More than?" he asks, kissing my lips. I turn toward him. "Anything.
If a man stopped me in the street and demanded of me my watch, I should refuse to give it to him. If he threatened to take it by force, I feel I should, though not a fighting man, do my best to protect it. If, on the other hand, he should assert his intention of trying to obtain it by means of an action in any court of law, I should take it out of my pocket and hand it to him, and think I had got off cheaply.
Vulnerability and me go hand and hand now. I try to put myself first so that I can take care of my family so I try not to fight vulnerability as much now.
Sometimes I think of that and I'm like, "Simone, I don't know what else you can do. What more can you do? Maybe you can repeat yourself." I'll take time off, get out more, go outside more, vacation.
I try to give myself permission to be a work-in-progress and not have everything figured out at once. It's more manageable and takes some of the pressure off of feeling like I have to have everything right all the time.
I think that's the true litmus test for someone who has become closer to Jesus: their heart is more loving, accepting, childlike, less believing that they have all the answers and more believing in Him.
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